by Morgana Best
“She’s dead,” Prudence said in a weak voice. “I’ve called an ambulance.”
I was in shock. “What happened to her?”
Damon Stark looked at me, his face grim. “Just before she died, she said she’d been poisoned.”
“What did she eat?” I asked him.
He shook his head vigorously. “It wasn’t anything I prepared, I can assure you. I don’t know what she ate, but everyone else has been eating and everyone else is fine.”
“Did you call the police too?” I asked Prudence who appeared quite distraught.
She staggered into Alder, and he caught her arm to steady her. “Yes, I called 000 and told them what happened. They said no one should go near her.” Her voice shook.
Everyone took a step backwards. “Are you sure she’s dead?” I asked Damon. “Shouldn’t we do CPR or something?”
Camino took my arm. “I realise you’re upset, Amelia, but Alder’s aunt has clearly crossed over to the other side.”
I just couldn’t believe it. “But, but what could have happened to her?” I stammered.
Damon walked over to Alder and put his arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry about your aunt, but if she was poisoned, it wasn’t my food.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she had a heart condition.”
“Well then, why did she tell me she’d been poisoned?” Prudence said. “She said it right before she died.”
“Did she speak to anyone else?” I asked Damon.
Before he could respond, a woman stepped forward. I barely knew her—I had seen her at New Moon festivals and the like. “She was speaking to me before she spoke to Prudence,” she said.
“What did she say?”
“She had only been speaking to me for a very short time, and she said that Alder hated her and wished she was dead.”
Prudence gasped. “Alder, you said you could have killed her for speaking up!” She clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.”
Everyone gasped. My stomach churned. I sensed rather than felt Alder tense beside me. If his aunt had, in fact, been poisoned, then Alder would surely be a suspect.
The sound of police sirens in the distance startled me.
Thyme’s boyfriend, Dawson, hurried over to us. “I was in the bathroom. What happened?”
“My great aunt Bertha Bunyons has just died, and moments before she died, she said she was poisoned. That’s all I know. Amelia and I were over there.” Alder gestured to the garden where we had been standing, right next to a giant glass teapot that harboured a terrarium.
“I’ve called the police,” Prudence told him.
Dawson nodded. “Sorry about your wedding, guys. Oh, and your aunt, Alder.” His face flushed red.
Mint hurried over to us, but before I could explain what had happened, an unmarked police vehicle pulled up and Detective Chris Bowes and Detective Sam Barrett jumped out of the car. Chris was out first, which was not surprising since he spent most of his time in the gym, and Detective Barrett was considerably slower, given the fact he had probably never seen the inside of a gym in his life. Not that I was one to talk—I had only ever been to a gym under strict protest.
Detective Barrett wasted no time in barrelling over to us. “Victim’s name?” he bellowed, after allowing a curt nod to Dawson, who was off-duty attending the wedding.
“My great aunt, Bertha Bunyons,” Alder supplied.
“All right then, I’ll ask you all to clear the scene, but no one is to leave the premises. What was the purpose of this gathering?”
“My wedding,” I said.
He looked me up and down, but thankfully did not comment on my wedding gown. “I see,” he said after an interval. “Well, everyone can go and take a seat over there at the tables, and I will take witness statements in turn.”
“I’ll miss my flight if I stay,” Marina said.
One of the women spoke up. “I didn’t see what happened.”
“No one’s going home, if that’s what you’re both angling for,” Barrett barked. “Off you go! This isn’t a circus. All of you clear the scene so we can do our job.”
Alder put his arm around me and led me back to the bride and groom table. It was all I could do not to burst into tears. A death at my wedding reception. It was all too horrible.
Something occurred to me. “Alder, why would the detectives come? Surely they would think Bertha died of a heart attack or something? Police don’t attend deaths by natural causes. I wonder why they thought there were suspicious circumstances?”
Alder frowned for a moment, and then said, “No doubt Prudence told them my aunt said she had been poisoned.”
I thought it over. “Could she have been poisoned?”
Alder shrugged. “Anything is possible. She was obviously quite unwell, but she didn’t mention her medical conditions to me.”
“Maybe she suddenly felt ill and thought she’d been poisoned,” I said. “Who would want to poison her?”
“Just about everyone who met her,” Alder said wryly. “She wasn’t the most likeable person.”
“Lots of people aren’t likeable, but they don’t get murdered,” I told him.
He nodded and rubbed his chin. “Yes, but she was the type to make enemies. If she has been poisoned, then the police will look to me as their main suspect.”
I had been thinking the same thing.
Thyme and Dawson hurried over to us. “Did you find out anything?” I asked Dawson.
He shook his head. “No, our best bet is for Mint to find out something from Chris, because Sam Barrett is always tight lipped about everything.”
“But they are treating it as a murder then?”
Dawson shook his head and then nodded. “They’re actually treating it as suspicious.”
I was about to ask, but Thyme beat me to it. “But why do they think it’s suspicious? Couldn’t it have been a heart attack or a stroke or something? Alder said she wasn’t well.”
Dawson shrugged. “We’ll have to wait to find out, but apparently the person who phoned it in claimed the victim said she’d been poisoned, just before she died.”
I nodded slowly. “That was Prudence.”
“I’m worried they’ll suspect Alder,” Thyme said, once more echoing my thoughts.
“Why would they suspect Alder?” Dawson asked her.
I answered. “Because that woman—what is her name?—said Bertha was speaking to her just before she spoke to Prudence, and Bertha said Alder would like to kill her.”
“No one would take any notice of that,” Thyme said, waving one hand in dismissal, but Dawson’s face was grim.
I shot a look at Alder, and he looked paler than usual. “I wonder if someone actually did kill her? You know, maybe they’ll find out she did have a serious medical condition. Maybe that’s why she came to the wedding, because she knew she didn’t have long for this world.” I was saying it more to convince myself than anyone.
“Here comes Mint,” Thyme said. “Hopefully she’ll know something.”
“I don’t know a thing,” Mint said by way of greeting. “I haven’t had a chance to speak to Chris, but he won’t speak to me while Detective Barrett is looking.”
I rubbed my forehead. At least now I knew what my bad feeling had been about, not that it was any consolation.
“Now don’t get upset,” Dawson said. “They’ll run tests and find out what killed her. Maybe it was a heart attack, or maybe she was poisoned. If she was poisoned, then there are plenty of suspects.” He gestured to the crowd of people all sitting at the beautifully decorated tables, but there was no food on the tables. This was certainly a wedding reception gone wrong.
Damon Stark hurried over to us, waving his hands. “All my beautiful food!” he wailed. “Do you think I could serve it now?”
Alder shrugged. “Why not? We can’t have it going to waste.”
My stomach growled loudly. I had no idea how I could think of food at a time like this, but I
was starving.
“Why is she here?” Dawson said.
“Who?” I asked him, following his gaze.
“She’s a new police officer in town. She’s quite nice; don’t get me wrong. It’s just that if they’ve called in a uniformed female officer, it’s likely they’re going to conduct searches.”
I clutched my arms. “Searches? On people? They’re going to search us?”
“That would be my guess,” Dawson said. No sooner had he finished speaking, than Detective Barrett appeared beside us. “Give me your coat, sir,” he said to Alder.
Alder took off his coat and handed it to Barrett.
Barrett carefully inserted a gloved hand into one pocket and then the other. From the second pocket, he gingerly pulled out a syringe and a little vial.
Chapter 9
“What is this?” Barrett demanded.
“I’ve never seen it before,” Alder said. “Someone must have planted them on me.”
“I suggest you speak to a lawyer. I have to ask you to accompany us to the station.”
Barrett nodded to Chris Bowes and the uniformed police officer. They escorted Alder to the police vehicle.
I realised I was standing there with my mouth open. “Alder didn’t kill his aunt,” I said when I was able to speak.
“Of course not.” Thyme patted my shoulder. “It’s obvious someone else did and that person is trying to frame Alder.”
“But why, why?” I shook my head. None of this made any sense. “I can understand someone wanting to murder Bertha. She had a lot of enemies, but framing Alder? That means it was someone who didn’t like both of them.”
Thyme disagreed. “It might not be someone with a grudge against Alder as such. It could just be the murderer was trying to deflect suspicion and Alder seemed the most likely one the police would suspect.”
I clutched my throat. “Most likely suspect? You’re right! The police will think Alder did it.” With that, I burst into a flood of tears.
I tried to stop crying, but the more I tried, the more I sobbed. Finally, I managed to draw breath. Mint shoved a box of tissues at me. “It’s normal you feel this way,” she said.
“I’ve been on the phone organising a lawyer for Alder,” Ruprecht told me.
I looked up, startled. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been here.” He arched his eyebrows, seemingly surprised at my question.
“Ruprecht, do you think they’ll arrest Alder?”
Ruprecht didn’t answer at once, and that worried me. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “The main thing is, we all know Alder didn’t do it, so if the police don’t find the real culprit, then we will have to look into the case ourselves.”
I leant forward and put my head between my hands. “Not again! It’s all too much.” I thought I might burst into a fresh flood of tears, so forced myself to take deep breaths. This had to be the worst wedding disaster in history. My new husband’s great aunt had been murdered, and my new husband was the main suspect. I looked at Ruprecht. “What should we do now?”
“You need to make a statement,” Barrett said.
I looked up in shock at him. “I thought you went away with Alder?”
“No, I remained to take witness statements.”
I felt as though I would faint. A faint throbbing in my temples signalled an oncoming headache. “You want to question me?” I asked him.
“Yes, in private.” He shot a pointed look at the others.
After they left, he sat next to me, his pen hovering over his notepad. “Tell me what happened, in your own words.”
I leant back in my chair. “Alder and I were talking when someone ran over to us and said Alder’s aunt was dead.”
“Who informed you?”
“Thyme. It was Thyme.”
He looked up at me expectantly. “Go on.”
“When we got there, we saw she was dead. Everyone said she had died, and Prudence Pringle, my wedding planner, had called the police and ambulance.”
“Go on.”
I shrugged. “That was about it, really.”
“And what was your relationship with the deceased?”
“I didn’t have one.”
He fixed me with a steely gaze. “Miss Spelled, or should I say Mrs Vervain?”
I shook my head. “Ms Spelled.”
He shot me another look, and then continued, “Miss Spelled, how can you say you didn’t have a relationship with the deceased? I was under the impression she had been staying with your husband for the past week.”
I knew I would have to tread carefully, because I didn’t want to say anything that could get Alder into further trouble. “Yes. She arrived unexpectedly a week ago and stayed with Alder. He wasn’t expecting her.” I shook my head. “I just said that, didn’t I?” I pushed on. “The three of us met for coffee soon after.”
“Are you saying Mrs Bunyons was not invited to the wedding?”
I nodded. “That’s correct. She doesn’t approve of, um, pagans. Alder and I are pagans, and she disapproved. That’s why Alder hadn’t invited her to the wedding. He hadn’t seen her in years, anyway.”
“And did they argue often?”
I wondered if he was trying to catch me out. “I don’t know if they ever argued. I only saw them together at the wedding, and once before that when we were having coffee.”
“And where did you have coffee?”
I told him, and he jotted it down. “Go on,” he said once more. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. We didn’t eat anything, just drank coffee. Alder and his aunt left early because she had an altercation with Maeve McKenzie, so Alder took his aunt home.”
“What was the altercation about?”
“She insulted Maeve’s five-year-old twin boys, and was quite rude to her.”
Barrett nodded and kept writing. “And so you allege the only two occasions you saw Bertha Bunyons were when you, your husband, and Mrs Bunyons had coffee, and again today at the wedding.”
I nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” The word ‘allege’ rankled.
He looked up once more. “And you hadn’t met her at any other time?”
“That’s right,” I said, hoping the questions would soon come to an end.
“And in the past week that Mrs Bunyons was staying with your husband, you had no contact with her whatsoever, neither by phone nor text nor any other means?”
“Yes.”
“And what did your husband tell you about his aunt?”
“Nothing much, only that she had made a lot of enemies in town. That’s about it.”
“Do you know how the syringe and vial found their way into your husband’s pocket?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve never seen them before. He hadn’t either,” I added firmly.
He shut his notepad with a thud. “That will be all for now, Miss Spelled. Please make yourself available for questioning over the next day.”
He stood up.
Chapter 10
My wedding cake might have looked traditional, and while it was covered with almond paste, it was filled with Oreo cookies and salted caramel. Essentially it was a big cookies and cream cake with a hint of caramel, just how I liked it.
I didn’t care about that right now. I was sitting on my living room floor eating comfort food, and that comfort food just happened to be my wedding cake.
Thyme came into the room and let out a shriek. “Amelia! Did you eat a whole tier by yourself?”
“Ump gakle jrur.”
Camino hurried over to me. “Amelia dear, it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.”
Ruprecht scolded her. “Don’t, Camino. You’ll just make her cry—again.”
With that, I burst into a fresh round of sobs. After what seemed an age, I managed to recover and shoved another piece of cake into my mouth.
“There won’t be anything left for anyone else,” Mint said in a calming tone.
I swallowed the mouthful. “He
lp yourselves.” I sniffled.
“We will have another lovely wedding reception for you when this is all over,” Ruprecht said.
The blaring of a train’s whistle made everyone jump.
“Was that the TV?” Ruprecht asked.
I nodded. I considered stuffing more wedding cake into my face, but then thought I would be dreadfully sick. “The house isn’t watching Bridezillas any more,” I muttered. “She’s watching Agatha Christie. I told her everything that happened, so I think she’s trying to solve Bertha’s murder.”
“Most admirable,” Ruprecht said.
“I have to get out of my dress in a hurry,” I said.
Camino rushed over to help me to my feet. “Yes, you don’t want to ruin it by spilling food on it.”
I agreed, but the real reason was that I had eaten so much cake I was sure I had doubled my waistline already. The zipper was already digging into my flesh and my stomach was quite uncomfortable.
“I’ll help you to your room and unzip you,” Camino said. “I brought you a little gift to cheer you up, something more comfortable for you to change into.”
This time I didn’t even care that Camino had brought me a onesie. I donned the dingo onesie without protest, and then allowed Camino to lead me back to the living room. She was in her rabbit onesie once more.
“Is it safe that Amelia is in a dingo onesie and you’re in a rabbit onesie?” Thyme said. “The way her appetite is going, she might gobble you up.”
Everyone emitted a forced laugh, but I didn’t bother. I sat on the floor, but noticed something missing. “Where’s the wedding cake?” I said.
“We’ve hidden it from you, to be honest. It’s for your own good,” Thyme added.
“Wine, I want some wine,” I said through my sniffles.
They all exchanged glances. “It’s probably better than food,” Mint said. “We will just have to monitor her consumption.”
I held up one hand. “Hello! I can hear you. I’m right here.”
Hawthorn and Willow sat in front of me, concern on their faces. “Alder still hasn’t called and he isn’t answering his phone,” I told them. “That means the police have arrested him already.”
